


i'd bet on the birds

by indigold, TittyAlways



Series: a little game of cat and mouse [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Antagonism, Background Relationships, Coffee, Coffee Shops, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Kanda is a nihilist, M/M, Rating May Change, Sarcasm, Sex First Date Later, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, author works in a coffeeshop, expect shop talk, lots of coffee, non-binary Alma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:24:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11077746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigold/pseuds/indigold, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TittyAlways/pseuds/TittyAlways
Summary: When history student Howard Link drags himself away from graduate work to grab lunch (and save himself from murdering his cohort), he walks into the campus-classic cafe for the first time in a while, expecting status quo, with good coffee, the mysterious shopkid who's been there since before time began, and maybe a chance to relax.What he gets instead is Kanda, the couple-weeks-new barista— gorgeous, with the worst, most sour personality you could ever dream of.Link suffers as he tries to figure out whether he wants to have sex with him or just strangle him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Holy cow this was a crazy adventure to start. What started as "Link is _________, Kanda is _________ _MAKE THEM BANG_ " turned into me backing up and developing a full-blown story. What is even my life anymore.
> 
> Please to enjoy! I suddenly started cranking out more longform stuff, and I think that's going to mean well for the stuff I haven't touched in a while. Stay tuned! This fic shouldn't be more than 5 chapters, but I'll be updating every Friday.

Link sighed, a little beleaguered, shifting the few heavy textbooks under his arm as he waited in line at the coffeeshop near campus. He had decided if he didn’t drag himself out of the department’s graduate lounge at least  _ once _ today, he would either end up killing himself or killing one of his cohorts, and some small part of him weighed his potential contributions to the field more generously against Lavi’s.

The place was pretty much only ever referred to as ‘True Neutral’, as the tabletop club that frequented after campaigning had dubbed it long ago; it had no real signage to suggest otherwise, and the staff eventually adopted the name when answering the phone. Even truer to its name, the interior was swathed in neutrals, cozy, with burlap coffee sacks tufting the ceiling, elephant gray walls, and a well-loved, mismatched living room set surrounded a large, rough wooden coffee table, the crown jewel of study areas among the small wood-and-metal tables and chairs.

“Do you want whipped cream on your mocha?” Link could hear the cashier asking cheerfully, smiling sympathetically from under their messy bangs. Link recognized the back of the head in front of him from a class he had taken during undergrad; Something-or-other Lee. Lee sounded like she was smiling when she spoke.

“What kind of question is that? Whipped cream makes everything better,” she replied, putting her change in her wallet. She took a breath to maybe ask a question, when someone piped up rather rudely.

“You sure about that? Life still sucks and it’s still gonna end eventually. It'd take a whole lot more than whipped cream to fix that.”

The heads of everyone near the register snapped to attention at that, Link’s included. 

He hadn’t encountered this barista before. He would’ve remembered someone so aggressively beautiful, he was sure. Fine, hawkish features and dark, almond-shaped eyes; dark, coarse hair, left long and thrown into low ponytail that fell against a long, pale neck. The man was lean, emphasized by the way the grey v-neck hung off him all baggy and formless, but he was skinny and pretty enough that it still looked intentional and fashionable.

In the time it took Link to take in the look of the barista, there was no awkward silence, or even a pause to absorb his crass behavior. In fact, Lee and the cashier seemed to be  _ genuinely laughing it off. _

“Oh Kanda, you haven’t changed, have you?” “Haha, that’s Yuu for you!”

Link was bewildered.  _ What the hell? _

Meanwhile, Kanda was sliding someone else’s drink across the counter. “Got a caramel double latte for—  _ oh for fuck’s sake— _ ” He turned directly to a blonde twenty-something looking at their phone rather intently. Or rather, Link could say, smugly. “I fuckin’ swear, Ray, I’m not calling out drinks like this even if you pay me!”

The drink, marked with the name  _ Titty <3 _ , was snatched from the counter with a cheerful, “Aw, but pissing you off is half the fun, Yuu~!”

Yuu Kanda. Kanda Yuu? It didn’t matter— who was he? Had Link somehow not come here in long enough that he missed a new barista being adopted into the culture here? Regardless, Kanda looked downright  _ murderous _ when they called him Yuu, so he supposed that must be his first name. Not that it mattered. 

Lee had stepped aside to wait for her drink, and Link finally remembered the cashier, Alma’s, name. They certainly seemed happy to see him, that was for sure. “Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while!”

Link sighed a little, smiling politely. Alma was nice, and his goal had been to get out of the lounge, but he really didn’t have time to be making pleasantries when he had Charlemagne waiting for him back in the graduate lounge. “What can I say? I’ve been buried in Holy Roman history for the last three weeks.”

“Long enough that I can’t quite remember your drink. What can we get you?” Kanda shot Alma a look at that. He clearly didn’t enjoy being included in good customer service.

“Caramel cappucino, with an extra shot—”   
  
“ _ God _ , just call it a fortissimo like everyone else,” Kanda shot at him from behind the bar. Link allowed himself the childishness to roll his eyes. He shot Alma look, as if to say  _ he’s really just like this? _ , but they didn’t seem to pick up on it.

“— with an extra shot, poured over the foam,” he finished, glaring at Kanda. Alma smiled and nodded, clearly remembering now. “Is the panini press working today?”

“Mmhmm! Allen’s friend Johnny fixed it last week.” “Can I get an Augustine, then?” “Of course!” Alma cheered, ringing him up and running his card. “Caramel fort, but he wants the extra shot over the foam, Yuu,” They called over. He seemed less aggravated when Alma called him Yuu.

“You want it dry so your pretentious coffee milk doesn’t fuck up your stupid grad student diet?”

“I beg your pardon?” Finally, Alma made the connection that Link and Kanda hadn’t met. He reached across the counter to touch Link’s arm.

“Oh, you haven’t met Yuu! He started here a couple weeks ago.” So that answered that question, then. “Yuu, this is Link! He's been around for ages, but he's in grad school now. Link—”

“—Kanda,” he finished for Alma, shooting them a look. “Call me Yuu and your death will be even  _ more  _ inevitable, got it?” Link simply quirked his eyebrows in bemused irritation as Kanda set Lee’s mocha on the counter. “Lenalee, your mocha’s up.”

Link stepped back from the counter, looking around the shop. As usual, Allen was camped out in the corner of the couch nearest to one of the outlets, plugging away at…  _ something. _ Link had heard a couple inappropriate jokes about  _ what _ exactly he wrote, but… Link was a firm believer in not making such things his business.

The shop was pretty sparse for lunch, though, and since Link didn’t recognize anyone else other than Lenalee, he ended up looking at Kanda again. He was struggling to decide which was more true— how totally typical it was that someone so attractive would have such a terrible personality, or what a  _ shame _ it was. Link didn’t really have a  _ type _ per se, as much as he found himself attracted to people with a good aesthetic and good taste. Even as simply dressed as Kanda was, Link couldn’t help but mourn the man’s style, marred as it was by his god-awful attitude. Link found him to be fatalistically beautiful— emphasis on  _ fatalistic _ . Despite the fact that Link’s studies had taken him through some rather particular areas of the philosophy department, he had never met anyone so aggressive and  _ confrontational _ with their nihilism.

Kanda’s eyes flicked up over the bar suddenly and caught him staring. His expression turned dark and sour, and he opened his mouth to say something when Alma suddenly called out to Link from the panini press. “Link, your sandwich! Did you want to eat it here, or do you want me to wrap it up for you?”   
  
He blinked, his intense eye contact with Kanda broken, and he looked over at Alma. “I think I’ll have it to go, thank you.” Having had Yu Kanda’s existence so suddenly and aggressively thrust in his face, he was coming to actually regret leaving the humanities building. Kanda still looked like he wanted to say something, but he turned away to focus on the steamer wand in his toweled grip, and his face took on a cruel grin.

“Alright! Here, I threw in an apple for you, since we miss you,” Alma said sweetly, handing him a white paper bag.

“I just met you so like hell I’m gonna miss you anytime soon. Take your fuckin’ coffee.” Kanda shoved a to-go cup across the counter at him. Link frowned as he took it and headed for the door.

“Good luck with your work, Link! Don't be a stranger!” Alma called out after him, smiling.

Link simply waved on his way out the door, stewing on what just happened. How does some one like Kanda end up working a job that  _ requires  _ good customer service? It made no sense. Did he know the owner or something?

It wasn't until he was half a block away that he remembered that there was coffee in his hand for the drinking. He took a sip and grimaced.

The milk foam was burned. Link had a feeling it wasn't by mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

“What I’m _trying to tell_ _you_ is that they’re not going to take any of this seriously at our level,” Link harped, leaning back in his desk chair, notebooks and library books spread out on the table in front of him. “If your end goal was to teach history with cartoons and music, you should’ve just gone into education. And the board is going to tell you that too.”

“Mmmmmmmmhmmm. Totally, Howard.” Link wanted to kill Lavi, he really did. How did Lavi get into grad school like this?

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

Lavi grinned unrepentantly. “Nope. But I’m flattered that you worry about how I’m putting my education to use, Howard, I really am.” Link liked to think Lavi didn’t _really_ get away with calling him Howard, but. There wasn’t much he could do about it, when he’d tried _numerous_ times to tell him to stop. He was above yelling, above actually hurting Lavi, and murder was illegal, and there he was stuck. It saddened Link to no end that of all the other undergrad history students Link had met, Lavi was the one to stick with him all the way through into the graduate program. Everyone went off to other colleges, teaching jobs, clerical work, and museum grunt careers, and Link had Lavi for these two more years.

“And you’re one to talk, Mr. Holy Roman Empire. Who’s going to take a history grad studying _Charlemagne_ seriously?” Link sputtered at that. Link’s particular focus had long been a point of contention between the two of them.

“I’m not merely studying _just_ Charlemagne, as you seem completely unwilling to acknowledge,” Link defended. “The East-West Schism was merely _aggravated_ by Charlemagne, which is why I’m studying him. _For the moment._ And besides, I’m aiming to be a scholar, not a teacher like you.”

Lavi’s chiding tone took a turn for the downright patronizing. “But Howie, you’re studying _fictional history_ —” Link actually _growled_ at that. That was Link’s biggest intellectual trigger and Lavi _knew_ it.

" _I swear to god, Lavi, if you bring up the phantom time hypothesis one more time—_ ”

“OUT.”

Both heads turned to find Dr. Bookman standing in the door. At (at most) half their size and (at least) two and a half times their age, the professor who occupied the faculty office nearest to the graduate lounge had a way of occupying an entire room with sheer presence when he was angry.

“If there’s _anything_ we professors don’t take you two seriously for, it’s the obscene amount of _bickering_ that comes from this room when you both could be _working_. Both of you, go home. Don’t come back until tomorrow.”

“But, professor—” “Aw, _Gramps_ —”   
  
_“Get out!”_

And so, with their tails between their legs, the two fully-grown men set about putting their books and work away with all the sheepishness of two seven-year-olds. Link’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he set some of his larger, less-portable books on his assigned shelf. He couldn’t remember the last time he upset a teacher, and the fact that it was someone like Bookman, with decades of tenure under his belt… Link was feeling more than a little ashamed of his behavior.

“Hey,” Lavi called over to him as he slipped his notebooks and transcript into his satchel. Link looked up in reply. “Want to go get coffee?”

Link thought about it, trying hard not to think about that intense gaze that had pinned him from behind the espresso bar three days ago, or dark hair he had already imagined running his fingers through, until he found a good place to close his fist around and _pull_ —

His hands imperceptibly tightened their grip on his own bag, his nails scratching over the canvas as he forced the images from his mind.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he replied quietly. Quietly, in case any further noise of _any_ kind would anger Dr. Bookman further. He finished sliding his things into his bag and latched it, looking outside. Was it hot out? He had been in the air conditioned building since morning and couldn’t tell by simply looking, so he settled on taking off his cardigan just in case, folding it and tucking it into his bag. He couldn’t take off his vest for fear of the fabric getting mangled in transit, so he simply hoped losing the sweater would be enough.

“You like that place down on University, right…?” Lavi asked, waiting for him by the door, his well-worn flannel tied around his hips. “I’ll buy.”

Link’s mouth opened on _that’s awfully kind of you, considering you started this_ , but the words turned sour on his tongue. Lavi genuinely seemed sorry. “Yes,” Link replied softly, as he came to lead the way out of the lounge and down the hall. “I appreciate it.” Dr. Bookman had returned to his office, thankfully; Link wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to handle his eyes following them out of the building like this.

It was warm out— not sweltering hot, but Link felt stifled in his long-sleeved button up. With the cardigan the shirt had been perfect in class and in the lounge, but by the time they reached the main campus thoroughfare Link was rolling up his sleeves, folding his cuffs carefully.

“Oh, yeah, you're coming to my party this weekend, right?” Lavi asked suddenly, grinning. Link sighed. The party. Lavi had invited him on Monday, promising a lot of people would be there, and knowing Lavi, Link was content to decline. He knew what Lavi’s parties entailed, and knew that four years of undergrad hadn't tempered Lavi's party habits. It was a lot of drinking, a lot of art and film and music students and a lot of _not what Link was about_ all around.

“I’m not interested in getting completely wasted with a bunch of people I don’t know,” Link deadpanned. “Honestly, I can’t believe you haven’t outgrown these ragers.”

Lavi groaned. “Ugh, _god_ , Howie, live a little— _aaah_ —” Link had raised a hand to backhand Lavi in the chest for using the nickname, and Lavi flinched with a lame whimper at the same time that Link had caught himself, “— don’t you ever take a break? You’ll hit a wall.”

“I have plenty of things I do to de-stress, so I doubt it. But I’m flattered that you worry so much about my wellbeing, really,” Link easily retorted, smirking at his use of Lavi’s own words from earlier. Lavi sighed as they came to the corner of campus across from True Neutral.

“Just think about it, alright? It’d be fun if you came,” he said finally after they crossed the street, reaching to hold the door for Link when they reached the threshold. The shared sigh of relief when the air conditioning hit them could’ve been heard on the other side of campus, Link was sure.

“— see what you’re trying to accomplish, but he’d _choke_.” Link froze in place as Lavi grinned. Allen was standing by the counter, engaging in… some kind of debate? Link hoped desperately that they weren’t talking about what he thought they were, but Lavi knew Allen better than he did and he seemed way too amused. Allen was talking to the tall, tanned man that Link often saw hanging all over him, so there was little chance that they weren’t talking about something else.   
  
“What? No. How do you mean?” The tall man shook his head, gesturing rather emphatically as he spoke.

“I mean, he’d choke. That’s not realistic.”

“Pffft.  _Tyki_. That just tells me you don’t try hard enough. I can confirm that he would not choke,” Allen shot back, grinning. Link, and evidently Kanda, from the look on his face, felt like throwing up in their mouths. Lavi, meanwhile, was struggling to keep his laughter to himself.

“You can’t fault me for not being able to take your word for it,” Tyki said, eyebrows climbing as he leaned a little closer. Allen didn’t seem to mind the advance; in fact, he seemed to be leaning _into_ it. “I’d have to see it to believe it.”

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Allen crooned, the pair's heads inching ever closer. Link instantly averted his gaze, away from the shamelessness of it, and his attention snapped to Kanda when the barista opened his mouth.

“You know what would be great if you two could work out? The meaning of _pedophilia_ ,” he groused, pulling his towel away from the steamer wand and pitching it in Tyki’s face. “You can take your creepy 29-year-old come-ons elsewhere.”

The snap of the towel as Tyki whipped it back at Kanda in retaliation only registered obliquely in Link’s perception, as did the fact that Lavi had broken away from him to go join Tyki and Allen. A detail in the overall look of Kanda had caught Link’s attention and he couldn’t shake himself free of it.

Kanda _had his hair up_.

Compared to the low ponytail he’d been wearing when Link had met him, the bun Kanda was wearing high up to keep his hair off his neck in this hot weather was far preferable. It left an unobstructed view of his slender neck, sloping down to graceful shoulders, further framed by his baggy rock concert tank top.

"... don't you think, Howard?" Lavi's voice finally cut through, interrupting Link's reverie. Link blinked, finally forcing himself to look away.  
  
"C... come again?"

“It’d be great if Tyki and Allen came to the party, don’tcha think?” Lavi repeated, grinning. Link shrugged, failing to notice the knowing grin Tyki watched him with.

“It’s your party, not mine. Invite who you want,” Link blustered, a little hastily. Kanda seemed to take serious issue.

“ _Fuck. No._ I say invite who you want as long as it’s not that predator.”

“Lucky for me, it’s my party, isn’t it, Yuu?” Apparently Link wasn’t the only one Lavi enjoyed disrespecting. It was Kanda’s turn to growl.

“ _How many times, you stupid—_ “ 

“Link, can I get you something to drink?” Alma finally piped up from behind the counter. They seemed a little quieter than usual, a little more toned down. Link frowned. 

“Are you alright, Alma…?” They just smiled and shook it off in dismissal.

“Just a little sore throat! Nothing some tea can’t fix,” they replied sunnily, lifting an overlarge mug. Link had to marvel at Alma’s fortitude, drinking hot tea on a day when the sun beat down almost as hot. “But what can I get you…? Caramel cappuccino…?”

Link glanced over at Lavi, who was whispering something rather urgent in Tyki’s ear while Tyki eyed Link. He tried not to be unnerved as he replied. “Whenever that idiot in the flannel decides to order something, I’ll have a vanilla cold brew. He offered to pay.” Alma blinked.

“Not a capp?” they asked, a little surprised. Link shook his head.   
  
“It’s too hot,” he said, unconsciously pushing up his rolled cuffs a little more. He couldn’t help feeling another pair of eyes on him, and looked to see Tyki, Lavi and Allen looking at him expectantly.

“What…?” Link asked, confused.

Tyki gave Link a nod in the vague direction of his outfit. “I like the tweed.” He gave Link a rather suggestive wink, and Lavi broke down into a helpless fit of giggles.

Strangely, the phantom feeling of being watched didn’t leave him despite looking directly at the group of them.

“That’s alright, Link,” Alma said, “I’ll just ring him up for it when he gets something. Vanilla cold brew, Yuu!” he called behind him. Link adjusted his grip on his bag, shrugging off the idiocy to his left and headed down toward the other end of the counter, where Kanda was pulling a milk jug full of cold brew out of a kicker.

“I’m sorry about my cohort,” Link mumbled as he glanced at the three of them, still carrying on. Perhaps it was the lingering embarrassment of getting kicked out of the lounge by Dr. Bookman, but he couldn’t help but feel like he needed to apologize for Lavi’s behavior.

Kanda snorted. “Trust me, I’m used to it,” he grumbled, reaching to pull the vanilla syrup down from the shelf on the wall. “I’ve known that guy for a while now.” He rolled his eyes when he saw Link’s confused expression. “He comes in with Tyki mostly, but he just leaves Tyki to go prey on the beansprout and gets his coffee and goes. I guess they’re friends, not that I care.” He tipped the syrup into Link’s cup lazily, and Link couldn’t tell if he let so much pour in out of laziness or if it was deliberate. “He’s just another overconfident grad student going after a pointless degree like the rest of them.”

And suddenly Link remembered what it was about Kanda that left him so sour.

“And what, pray tell, are you studying?” he asked icily. “What gives you the right to judge someone’s college career as _pointless_?”

Kanda snorted derisively as he put things away and reached for the cream, but the bitter expression on his face told Link that somewhere in Link’s questions was a sore spot. “See, you’re probably gonna have a hard time wrapping your higher-education brain around this, but having a piece of paper that tells people you paid thousands of dollars to work yourself to exhaustion and whittle yourself into a perfect drone doesn’t validate your existence as a human being. And not everybody’s made for that bullshit to begin with. What gives you the right to judge _them_?”

Link found it hard to both argue and sympathise. He had been bound for college since he was little. All he did growing up was read and read and read, watch historical movies, read books about the real things they were based on, wash, rinse, repeat. He absorbed dates and facts like a sponge. Link had never seen anything that _wasn’t_ college as a valid option, if he was being honest with himself.

Kanda slid the vanilla cold brew across the counter. Link looked up and found himself held almost terrifyingly captive by the look in his eyes— belligerent, honest, and electrifying.

“Quit staring and take your coffee, I’ve got a cortado to make,” Kanda grumbled. Link reached for the glass, both he and Kanda’s hands catching as they brushed, and their eyes locked once more.

And then Kanda turned with a huff, making for the hopper to get more coffee in his portafilter.

Link took his coffee and retreated, dazed as he pulled back from the counter. _What just happened?_

He regarded his cold brew, lips drawing into a thin line as he remembered the way Kanda’s hands tipped the vanilla syrup into his glass. He took a sip, blinking when he found it to be sweet enough to his taste. The sweetness of coffee Link didn’t make himself often disappointed him, and Kanda had gotten it right without even needing to ask.

He glanced back at the barista, catching a glimpse of that thin, pale neck and the rough, messy knot of hair tied at the back of his head, and went to go sit with Lavi.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again, everyone! just to let you all know, there won't be a new chapter next week as i'll be working my ass off trying to get things done for DGM fanworks week, which starts this coming monday! i hope making this chapter a thousand words longer than the previous one makes up for it.
> 
> titty is also pausing with if i had to ante up, partly to focus on other projects like fanworks week and her _awesome_ equine linkllen au, mount ararat, and also to give this story time to catch up with the timeline! currently what we've got posted doesn't line up timeline wise, but that should be all better after the next chapter of this story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _hey guess who couldn't get their brain in order for fanworks and ended up posting their chapter three days late_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> good sunday to you all! enjoy the chapter. i like to think that most of my inspiration and motivation came back when someone i love dearly returned to the world of the living from their crazy family road trip. funny how someone who inspires you goes away for a time and you can't bring yourself to do what they inspire in you. i guess that's what muses are about though, hm?

Link sighed as he passed over the threshold, sighed gratefully into the air conditioning of the coffeeshop as he reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow—

“— serve that guy you wanna hatefuck when he comes in today, or are you gonna spit in his cup again?” Tyki’s voice rang clear across the shop from his spot on the couch next to Allen.

“The inevitability of death is gonna hatefuck us all one day, but I hope it gets you first,” Kanda snapped back, throwing the towel at the bar as he turned and looked… actually surprised to see Link. He quickly wrangled his face back into the tight cookie cutter mold of disinterest and annoyance. “The fuck do you want?” he harped waspishly.

Link… honestly didn’t have an answer for him. Not yet. That was just… so much to process in so few seconds. Kanda had his hair up again today, damn him. That didn’t make his mind any clearer. Bare arms folded, glaring like Link didn’t have any right to be here. Did he honestly treat every customer who walked in like this? Some part of Link, the part that imagined pulling Kanda’s hair like it was rope, wanted to wipe that look off his face, wanted to work that terrible attitude right out of him. If one of them didn’t manage to strangle the other to death first.

And furthermore, who on earth was Tyki _referring_ … no. He wasn’t going to let himself take that train of thought to its end.

He needed to order—

Come to think of it.

“Where’s Alma…?” Link asked, curious.

Kanda rolled his eyes and jerked his head behind him toward the stockroom, leading off from the prep space. “Alma’s in the back, waiting for the sweet, dark embrace of their own mortality to find them.”

“Wait… what?” Link’s brain was honestly fried. He tried to dig through all the dark humour to find what Kanda actually _meant_ to say and came up empty.

“He’s sick, Tweed,” Tyki called, taking pity on him. Link blinked, turning to look at Tyki to find him watching he and Kanda’s exchange with the sickest, most _amused_ look on his face, arm wrapped around Allen’s shoulders possessively. Link bristled and turned back to Kanda, who already seemed fed up as it was with Tyki and his presence. Link didn’t need to dig too deep to imagine what he could’ve done to piss Kanda off so badly in the few short weeks Kanda had been working in the shop.

“I… That’s awfully strange. I’ve… I’ve never seen him leave,” Link remarked as, speak of the devil, Alma themselves appeared.

They looked like _hell_. Pale— well, paler than usual, and clammy, their round face having taken on the sheen of sickly, sweaty condensation. The light in their eyes was dim from the delirium of their obvious fever, and they clutched a giant mug of boiling water worshipfully.

“But I… I don’t leave… I live here,” Alma mumbled absently, reaching for a box of lemon ginger detox tea on the shelf behind Kanda. Kanda gave an exasperated groan and pushed away from the counter, suddenly bringing Link to the realization that Kanda had actually been leaning quite close to him.

“Dumbass, I told you to go lay down,” he heard Kanda grouse quietly, carefully prying their delicate fingers away from the cup. “Don’t need you contaminating everything in the fucking shop.” As he put the cup back on the back counter, he shot Link a look that Link took to mean _I’ll be a minute, don’t fucking go anywhere_ , as he imagined Kanda would say it, and started herding Alma back out of the prep area.

“Of course they’d refuse to just fucking _take it easy_ ,” Kanda grumbled as he came back out a few moments later. “Gimme a minute, they made me promise to finish making this.”

Link watched, surprisingly… awed by the care he put into making Alma’s tea. He scooped the tea into an infuser, dropping it into the cup, and reached for the honey, drizzling a generous amount into the tea. When he was done, he grabbed a spoon to stir it, and ducked into the back again to take it to Alma.

He pinned Link with a look once more when he returned. “Anyway,” he started, rolling his eyes as he suddenly remembered an unmade drink and reaching for a to-go cup and bending over to reach into the kicker for milk. Link willed himself not to focus too intently on the way Kanda’s spine curved with the motion, the way his tank top stretched over his back, the slouch of the thin sweatshirt tied around his hips.

Kanda stood, glancing at him, and Link instead forced himself to watch him steam the milk, adding some of the drip coffee that sat prepared on the counter. “I imagine you wanted some coffee…? Staring until your eyes eventually rot out is free, obviously, but you might as well have some coffee while you waste away. Your choice, I don't give a fuck.” He slapped a to-go lid onto the cup, putting it on the counter.

“Kimmy, your au lait,” Kanda called, and gave the girl who came to claim it a hard stare. “You can put the sugar in it your fucking self too, I’m not making you coffee syrup.” He looked over at Link, brow arched expectantly. “Well?”

Link faltered for a moment as his higher brain functions kicked back into gear. “I…” he false-started. “Just an iced vanilla latte…?”

Kanda raised a mean eyebrow as he chuckled condescendingly. “Not your stupid complicated fortissimo…?” He asked. Link tried to keep his tone level at the jab.

“A, it's too hot for hot coffee, and b, I'd rather not give you the opportunity to intentionally burn the foam again.” Kanda laughed at that— a clear, open bark, not his typical derisive snickering.

“Burning that fort wasn't intentional,” he replied easily, amused as he tamped coffee from the hopper into his portafilter. “I just elected not to remake it on the grounds that you came off as a huge, pretentious prick.”

Link spluttered, egged on by Tyki’s laughter from across the room. “I— _excuse me_ — a pretentious prick?” Ah, there it was again— why he hated Kanda so much. So beautiful, and yet such an asshole. “I don’t _really_ come off like that to you, you can’t be serious.”

Kanda nodded ruefully. “As a heart attack,” he mused, eyebrows raised as he focused on the vanilla he was pouring into a to-go cup. “Tweed vests _and_ you’re studying Charlemagne. Seriously?”

Link rolled his eyes. He wasn’t even _wearing_ that vest today, having known how hot it would be; it was just a button up and khakis this time. “For your _information_ , I don’t dress like this _ironically_ and what I _study_ isn’t ironic, either. Which isn’t _just_ Charlemagne. Tell me Lavi hasn’t gotten to you, please.” He knew Lavi was annoying, but would he really badmouth Link to their barista? Really?

Kanda just snorted. “Oh. It’s way past that point, that’s the honest fucking truth.” Link sighed.

“If you want to know—” “I don’t—” “— I’m studying the East-West Schism, which is the event in 1054 wherein the Catholic faith split into the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox factions. My studies in undergrad and before college took me further and further back from that point, obviously, but Charlemagne is a major point along the development of the separation of the two churches. Even the very _recognition_ of Charlemagne as the Holy Roman Emperor and his policies are painted as heterodox by Eastern Orthodox Catholics. I imagine I’ll be studying Irene of Athens next, since the Byzantines were so keen on her taking control of Holy Rome.”

He finally looked up from his now-stilling, once-gesturing hands to find Kanda just staring at him. Link hadn't noticed that he had fallen into his habit of talking with his hands when he'd been speaking.

He couldn’t tell what he’d been watching, with his eyes trained somewhere on his midsection. Link looked down, checking to see that his shirt was still pristine, in case that had been what distracted him. A clean white shirt and his bare forearms extending from rolled-up sleeves were all he found.

He looked back up at Kanda, confused. “What?”

“You’re really just that big a nerd.” Kanda almost sounded dumbstruck.

Link couldn’t help but chuckle a little feebly. “You’d expect anything less of a graduate student…?”

Kanda turned back to the espresso bar just a touch hastily, taking the shots of espresso and dumping them both into the cup, swirling them idly with a long metal swizzle stick. “A graduate student that wears tweed and khaki. Right. Totally just a nerd and not just concerned with looking intelligent.”

Link sighed. He’d gotten no end of shittalk for that in undergrad as well. “When you’ve been at it as long as I have, you learn to either dress sharp and play the part or come to school with two lunches.”

Kanda hummed at that. “Tweed would’ve gotten your ass kicked too in… how long ago?"

“… First grade or so, I suppose.” Kanda blinked as he reached pulled more milk from the kicker, eyebrows quirking as he considered it.

“So your academia complex just runs that deep. No wonder you can’t face how pointless social constructs like higher education are.” Link folded his arms, looking away.

“You don’t need to be such a _pissant_ about it.” Kanda laughed again, and Link found himself struggling not to enjoy the sound of it.

“Clearly I do, if your worldview is so fucking narrow!” He guffawed. He set the latte down on the counter, shoving it towards him. “Take your fucking coffee, you _nerd_.”

Link took the cup, looking around as he made his way out, trying to ignore the feeling of Tyki and Allen’s eyes following him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and now we're caught up with _if i had to ante up_! i can't wait for you all to read what titty's been working on, i've been melting from the pure goodness of it. 
> 
> and don't worry! there's still going to be a chapter on friday this week. i have a good amount of momentum to just steamroll right into chapter 4.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS I'M SO SORRY I HAD A SHIT WEEK
> 
> I promised you guys a chapter on Friday and that didn't happen. I've had a long week. A reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally long week. And while I get this chapter ready to post I got to watch my favorite member of AKB48 graduate, which was exactly the heartbreak I expected. 
> 
> This chapter was a fight. I think from now on, I'm going to just _aim_ for weekends in general, since I typically have more time to write during the week with my work schedule. Trying to make it happen _by_ Friday has just been a struggle.
> 
> ALSO I'VE BEEN BAD AND NOT PROMOTING THIS FIC ON TUMBLR s-sorry guys ;;; it sounds like I have people following this from Tumblr!  
> I don't post *very* much DGM on my Tumblr, but if you like pastels, idols, equality stuff, and soft dgm aesthetics you can follow me at moe-game-too-strong.

It wasn’t until the next day, with no small pang of mortification, that Link realized he hadn’t paid for that latte.

Aggravatingly enough, he was locked into an office hours appointment with Dr. Epstein after his last class, and ended up spending way too long talking to her. By the time he had returned to the graduate lounge to get back to his books, he had forgotten once more.

 It wasn't until he was home later that night that he remembered again, after sinking into some required reading for a class for… an unperceived amount of time, it seemed. He jerked ramrod straight in his seat, swearing as he slapped his book down on the couch and looked at the clock. _9:46_. He’d been reading for three hours straight; it had only felt like… forty minutes somehow.

Link got up, glancing around as he started tidying his things and reaching for his sweater. Tevak looked up from her computer in the chair by the window.

“Where are you going? It’s super late,” she asked, frowning as she curled her legs underneath herself, reaching for her tea. “And it’s, you know, been raining since six?”

Link paused just fleetingly, looking out the window and letting out a breath. It didn’t seem to be coming down too hard. “Just the coffeeshop. We got distracted talking yesterday and they didn’t charge me for my coffee.”

Tevak gave him an incredulous look as she reached for a cultural anthropology textbook. “Then go tomorrow?”

Link glanced at his roommate. “No, I won’t be around tomorrow, I’ve got to go into town. I have to go now.” He grabbed his wallet and his key fob, and ran to put his boots on and throw himself out the door, Tevak’s voice trailing after him.

“If they _are_ open, will you bring back a chai for me?”

———

In the end, Link supposed it would only be his luck that he’d be too late. He probably had spent too long getting out of the house, between trying to figure out whether he could make it and talking to Tevak.

Kanda was locking up when Link jogged around the corner of the building. He turned as Link approached, and gave him the _sourest_ look.

“Oh, _hell_ no. I am _not_ opening the drawer back up just for you,” Kanda said, sinking back on his heels as he pulled away from the door. Link’s shoulders sank a little, disappointed in himself, or the situation, he couldn’t really decide, but his breath left him when the light from the streetlamps illuminated Kanda as he emerged from under the awning.

Link really couldn’t help noticing how damned _pretty_ Kanda was every time they crossed paths, but his hair was down, hanging on either side of his high cheekbones and sharp jawline like sheets of glossy, wet black. It turned just a little wavy and unpredictable at the ends, probably from being thrown in buns and ponytails all the time for his shifts.

“I never paid for that coffee yesterday,” Link said, a little numb as the heat from jogging from his apartment faded, leaving him with the damp of the rain soaking through his sweater. Kanda gave an aggressive sigh, waving his hand to cut him off as started putting on his jacket.

“Not worth opening back up for. Fuck it, I don’t even remember what I made you anyway,” Kanda groused, and Link opened his mouth to remind him he gave Link a pointed look that told him that the matter was closed.

Link floundered for a moment, “Your boss won't be unhappy?” Kanda just shrugged, reaching for his umbrella.

Link was about to say goodbye when Kanda turned to him, opening the umbrella as he shrugged his backpack into place for a walk home.

“What way are you going?”

Link blinked. It took him an embarrassingly long moment to realize that Kanda was offering to walk with him. “Um… I'm in the tower on Aspen,” he replied, slipping his wallet back into his pocket and attempting to shake some of the rain from his sweater.

Kanda thought on it for a moment. “Yeah, that's on the way, I guess. Come on.” He started walking toward the corner, gesturing for Link to follow. Link hesitated before trotting to catch up, falling in step with him after a second or two.

He glanced at Kanda as he tried to establish how close to walk, still unsure where they stood. He settled on a friendly distance, which unfortunately placed him directly under the edge of Kanda’s large umbrella. As the soft early-summer shower came down, water ran down and dripped on Link’s head and trailed down his back.

Kanda made another annoyed noise and reached to pull Link under the umbrella by the sleeve with his free hand, ignoring the disturbed yelp Link gave. “For fuck’s sake, just walk under the damn umbrella,” Kanda grumbled. “I wouldn’t have offered to fucking walk you if it wasn’t big enough to share anyway. Jesus. Why didn’t you take an umbrella, anyway?”

“I don’t know…. My concern was getting to the shop in time, and before I forgot again,” Link said a little lamely. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to get used to sharing such a close space with Kanda. Link glanced up at him, frowning a little when he saw how _tired_ he looked. “Long day?”

Kanda glanced at him warily before sighing. “The boss came in to cover Alma. The old man is exhausting. And the afternoon rush was hell today.” He looked straight ahead for a moment. “But we’re all a little closer to death than we were when we woke up and that makes it all a wash to me.”

Link was learning to roll with the punches when it came to Kanda’s little quips like these. “One thing after another,” he murmured. “I suppose I relate.”

Kanda raised an eyebrow at him and looked back at the sidewalk. Link was finding this side of Kanda easier to talk to, unsurprisingly; he was a little less mouthy, a little more companionable, easier to sympathize with. “But it's whatever,” Kanda said. “The day’s over and I’m going home where I just have to deal with my idiot roommate.”

Link hummed. He turned to consider him curiously. “What do you do, then? The cafe can't be all you aspire to do with your life. Waiting to die or whatever, that must be boring.”

He got another quirked eyebrow. “I paint.”

Link hummed, unsurprised but not disinterested. _Of course you do,_ he mused inwardly. Kanda shoved him, glaring.

“The fuck you just say?” _Oh lord, he'd said it out loud._ Link backpedaled in his embarrassment.

“ _God,_ I didn't— I didn't mean… just. College towns like this are always full of artists, doesn't it seem?”

Link didn't realize that Kanda had stopped walking until the rain started pelting his face suddenly, having left the shelter of Kanda's umbrella. He turned to look back, absolutely shocked when he saw how genuinely he had taken offense.

Kanda's flash of anger fizzled away to not just annoyance; he was _irate_ . “No, you can shut the fuck up with your expectations of _college towns like this_ . I'm not just some gross art school hack, shitlord, I _grew up here_. You don't just get to judge my art without even seeing it.” He brushed past Link roughly, leaving Link to watch as he walked ahead.

“Then show me your art.” The words left his mouth before he could even think, his heart in his throat at some unnamed terror that lay in the sight of Kanda’s back, but this time he wasn't embarrassed at his outburst. Kanda stopped, looking back at Link with a strange, confused but surprised expression. Then he seemed a little… open. Unguarded.

“What?”

Link swallowed, finding the words hard to pin down with Kanda looking at him like that. “I want… I'd like to see your art sometime,” he managed slowly. He was a deer in the headlights, trapped in this strangely electric moment of vulnerability. “If… you'd be okay with that.” Kanda exhaled, the tense, wary set of his shoulders loosening a little.

“Yeah, sure,” he said finally, unsure and a little off guard. The possibility dawned on Link that not many people had probably ever asked to actually _see_ Kanda's work; that not many people really tried to get to know him or what he did; that he probably had to explain more than once that _no, I'm not in school, I just live here_ to a customer who had ever wanted to make small talk. Not many people probably took Kanda seriously. If people didn't take Kanda seriously, what reason would he have to do the same for others? Link wondered if he even _bothered_ to tell people he did art, especially since Link could safely assume most people would have reacted the way he had.

And _that_ had to be the root of Link and Kanda’s misunderstandings, the fundamental reason that their interactions went south— _Link was no better than the rest of them_. Kanda had assumed Link was stuck-up and pretentious, sure, but Link was worse for looking down his nose on Kanda the way he had before.

He came up to rejoin him, reaching up to touch Kanda’s elbow. “We can keep walking,” Link said, only just loud enough to be heard over the rain. “And… I’m sorry for what I said.”

Kanda had calmed down, it seemed, and that was promising. “Ugh, you don’t have to make a big deal about it,” he grumbled, and Link couldn’t help but smirk a little at that. Kanda sighed, starting to walk once more, after waiting to make sure Link was coming.

“So why art?” Link asked, silently praying that it was an okay question to ask. Kanda sighed, rolling his shoulders a little.

“Do you want a short answer or a long answer?” he asked, rolling his head to look at Link expectantly.

“Well… we have time for the long answer, I think,” was Link’s quiet reply.

“I was a shit when I was little— yes, even more of a shit, don't look at me like that,” Kanda began, stopping to give Link a harsh glance when Link began to raise his eyebrows. “Acted out because I couldn't talk about my feelings, didn't even know how to. Speech therapy didn't work, and my mom was about to tear her hair out. She came across art therapy through a client at her salon.”

“Your mom's a hairstylist?” “Yeah. Lives out of town now, though.” “Ah.” It explained why his hair was so nice, Link supposed.

“But yeah. Art therapy. It just worked. Like… it all just made sense for me when I was doing it. Picking my colors, painting what I wanted… I got into it. Really fucking into it. So my mom introduced me to the old man.”

“The old man?”

“Tiedoll. What, you never met Alma’s dad? The guy who _owns_ the shop?”

Link’s mind boggled somewhat. “N-no,” he replied a little lamely. “If you’ll recall, it hardly registered for me that Alma ever actually _leaves_ the cafe.”

Kanda snorted, not in aggravation but in amusement. “Yeah, they’re kinda weird like that. Alma doesn’t keep a bed in the back or anything, if you wanna shut _that_ rumour down.”

Link huffed a laugh. “Who started that? Lavi?” Kanda shook his head.

“The beansprout, actually. Little shit, thinks Alma’s a fucking _cryptid_ or something.”

Link nodded, giving a snort himself as they walked. “Tyki probably doesn’t help, either,” he supplied soberly, unable to help the face he pulled. There was something about Tyki that didn’t necessarily _worry_ Link, but the man always forced him a little off kilter. Kanda elbowed him, but it wasn’t wrathful or scathingly angry like before.

“I refuse to talk about that guy on moral grounds. Walker’s in undergrad and that clap-ridden slimebag is what, thirty or something? God, it’s fucking sick.” Link raised an eyebrow, but said nothing; he wasn’t in a position to make assumptions about Allen’s age, but the way they flaunted their strange mating dance for the whole cafe to see put Link off _far_ more than the difference in age between the two of them. “Anyway. Alma’s not some weird homeless cryptid who lives in the cafe, and the old man teaches art when he’s not running it,” Kanda finished, bringing their tangent to a close.

Link nodded, glancing at Kanda. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to get Kanda to open up this much, but he was going to ride this wave as long as he could. To see Kanda’s face, without all the tension and disdain, without all the walls he raised around himself… Just the two of them and the nighttime rain, the only sign of human life outside the umbrella in the form of the occasional passing car on the street, the only extraneous noise to their conversation the sound of their own wet footfalls on the weathered, old pavement.

He looked over at Kanda again, at the condensation slowly collecting in his silky, ink black hair, and admiring the way it framed his flawless jawline. He saw tempered sharpness in his eyes as Kanda looked ahead, and Link’s gaze followed his perfect, cameo-worthy profile down the slope of his strong nose.

Link lacked the detachment to be bitter about how beautiful Kanda was anymore. He simply knew Kanda too deeply, knew too much of what made him tick now. And here, in the dim light of the streetlamps, shaded by his umbrella— god, _so_ close, they were walking so closely together, and it took every ounce of his fortitude to not be unnerved by this simple show of familiarity. Link hadn’t really given himself enough of a full breath to notice his scent until now, earthy, with traces of sandalwood and the heady overtones of the coffee he spent his days dealing in.

Link was so, so _gone_ , unable to pay attention to anyone on Earth in this moment but Kanda, sharing his umbrella without a thought, so guarded and protective of his art that he’d cuss Link out, push him around to defend it. He was absolutely lovely, and Link didn’t have it in him to deny it any longer.

His gaze fell to the curves of Kanda’s soft, full lips, and Link couldn’t help but wonder hazily what it’d be like to kiss him.

At that moment, they were both jostled as Link crashed into Kanda’s side, the trajectory of his gait having been led astray by his distraction. The arm holding the umbrella jumped, the umbrella itself upturning as soon as Kanda’s startled hand lost grip. The rain came down on both of them, soaking their hair and skin and clothing in seconds as Kanda managed to catch the umbrella again, unable to right the umbrella against the direction of the wind.

Kanda stilled to a halt as he caught the look in Link’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together suddenly. He opened his mouth, probably to ask him what was wrong, or perhaps what was wrong with _him_ in particular, but Link pushed forward to answer with his own question, written in the impulsive, hopeful set of his lips against Kanda’s, uncertainty underlined in the way Link’s fingers reached anxiously for Kanda’s sleeve.

God, it was _heavenly_ . Kanda’s lips hadn’t merely _looked_ soft, they _were_ , so, so much more than Link could have guessed just by looking. He pressed closer hesitantly, lips moving over Kanda’s slowly in a cautious slide of rain-stained velvet.

He was distantly aware of a hand coming up to plant between his shoulderblades, thumb riding the gentle valley between them as he was ushered closer against this beautiful, _gorgeous_ man. Link tilted his head just a fraction, focusing on the feeling of Kanda’s bottom lip between his own and trailing his free hand meekly up Kanda’s front to reach for the lapel of his jacket.

Then, suddenly, there was a tongue, warm and slick, teasing exploringly against Link’s own lips, and the moment shattered as he was dragged back to his senses harshly.

A drop of cold crystallised his insides as he pulled away from Kanda, desperate for air, eyes wide. He clapped his hand to his own mouth, his gaze going out of focus as he panicked. Sweet lord, he’d _kissed_ Yuu Kanda. With no real provocation, no actual indication that Kanda had actually wanted it. Just up and tried to start snogging him right on the sidewalk. What was _wrong_ with him? _What have I done?_

He extricated himself from Kanda hurriedly, too guilty to meet his eyes.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he gasped, rushed, breathless and terrified. _I’ve ruined it, I’ve completely ruined everything, what was I thinking?_

Link turned and ran for home, leaving Kanda with his umbrella and his backpack in the rain, denying himself the weakness to look back, lest he see the look on the man’s face.

_What have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I wrote the kiss to "Heroes" by David Bowie, on repeat.
> 
> /rubs hands together, whispering 'it only gets better from here'


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude, in which Link makes the Worst Decision Of All: texting Lavi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might get a real chapter at the end of the weekend! In the meantime, have more Link/Lavi bickering.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very special thanks to Titty for being a total _babe_ and writing for Lavi in this chapter, and even more for doing like, _all_ the copy-pasting work of creating these screenshots. AND ALSO FOR DOING A GREAT SNAPSHOT OF KANDA BEING BUTTHURT IN LIKE TWO HOURS LAST NIGHT WHILE THEY WORKED ON THIS guys what would i do without titty
> 
> tl;dr basically titty is the true creator of this mini-chapter and they kinda own a pretty hefty chunk of my heart as it is but now i literally owe them my soul


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys i love you i haven't abandoned you i promise!!!!! this took so long to write ugh ugh ugh
> 
> notes at the end! you might need a couple lol
> 
> but for now enjoy the party while you can l m a o this chapter is 3k and i'm reeling

Aggravating texts exchanged with Lavi aside, Link had an understandably hard time sleeping that night. Caught between Lavi’s insufferable teasing, his own self-doubt of the situation, and the  _ memory _ that kept replaying in his head, Link couldn’t seem to make his mind shut off.

_ Rain soaking through his clothes, into his hair and skin as his lips tangle with Kanda’s, so plush, softer than he anticipated, and so warm, Link’s burning up— _

Link pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, shutting himself away from the blankness of his bedroom ceiling.

He really was an idiot, wasn’t he? He had zoned out while listening to Kanda.  _ To stare _ . Had Kanda noticed that Link had been staring? Link couldn't really tell just from trying to run through it all in his head. But  _ then _ , as if the lapse in focus hadn’t been bad enough, he’d just thrown himself at Kanda without  _ thinking _ . God, he had been so  _ stupid _ .

But why was  _ Kanda _ moping? That was the part that made the least sense. He had little to go on but Lavi’s word, and honestly, Link considered that to be very little indeed. But the thought  _ nagged _ at him. Why? Was Kanda not put out by Link’s lack of self control? What was Kanda thinking right now? Surely he was the injured party, not Link, but Kanda didn’t have anything to  _ regret _ about what happened, did he?

_ Eyes closing as his mouth slants against Kanda’s, relishing the feeling of a hand urging him closer, Link reaching out, clutching at his jacket desperately as a tongue tries for purchase against his lips— _

Link’s breath stopped short, eyes snapping open wide.

That had been  _ Kanda’s _ hand.  _ Kanda’s _ tongue.  _ Kanda  _ had reciprocated, and  _ Link _ had pushed  _ Kanda _ away, not the other way around, not any other way around.

He huffed a long, miserable sigh.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Link breathed to the dark of the ceiling.

 

* * *

 

Link frowned as he approached Lavi’s house, glancing at the numbers on the walk-up apartment buildings. Lavi had given him the address a  _ million _ times throughout the week, giving him every possible detail he could think of as though Link would somehow end up at the wrong stupid party. He could hear the music and the talking before he saw the place, shoving his hands into his pockets as he started to brace himself against the awkward social situation. 

He'd never quite felt comfortable at parties like these; he'd never been invited to parties in high school, and he didn't see the appeal besides. As he told Lavi before, getting drunk with an apartment full of strangers were not his idea of a good time, and talking to Kanda about what had happened  _ while  _ drunk in an apartment full of strangers was an even worse idea. But he didn't have much other choice, unless he wanted to discuss it in public. He laughed at the likelihood of finding any semblance of privacy at a party, but it was better than talking to him at the coffeeshop.

He gingerly picked his way through the crowd outside, dodging solo cups and lit cigarettes and  bundles of dreadlocks as he made for the door. A girl’s voice carried over the din of the living room as she laughed too loud, and Link’s shoulders instinctively hunched a little tighter. If he didn’t have a reason to be here, he wouldn’t have been. The noise set him on edge and he had a feeling he wouldn’t make much of an impression on anyone.

His eyes searched the couch, the crowd of people standing around in the living room, searching for a familiar face, anyone he knew, and found no one. He wandered on, drifting between beer bottles and elbows through the apartment.

He didn't have to look much farther though, once he found himself in the kitchen, because there he came face to face with none other than Lavi himself. Lavi, Tyki, and Allen, as it so happened.

The three of them were drunk already, Allen and Tyki laughing amongst themselves, warm and open, and Link suddenly realized that something had shifted between them. The tension wasn’t there anymore, and the proximity between them was comfortable. Link didn’t feel the need to avert his eyes anymore, but he figured calling attention to it would give them too much satisfaction.

It turned out Link didn’t even need to do anything, cause as soon as Lavi turned to greet the newcomer to the kitchen several things happened at once.

“ _ Howie Dink….! _ ” Lavi cried, his hands coming up to cover his mouth as his eye went wide in excitement. Link heard something clatter, and when he looked over he realized that Tyki, in his disbelief, had dropped his drink to the floor, and was staring at Link like he had grown another head. Allen regarded both the scene and Link with no small amount of amusement, and in fact he was stifling a laugh behind his hand.

Lavi’s head whipped around to stare at Tyki pointedly, smile honeyed and venomous, or as venomous as a trashed twenty-something could be. “ _ Babe _ …”

Tyki, once he was able to tear his eyes away from Link, gave a lazy, full-bodied groan and glared at Lavi, but sighed and acquiesced. “ _ Fine _ ,” he ground out, morose as he slipped a strap over his head and shouldered an actual keytar off himself and handed it to Lavi. “Treat her well,” he warned. “I'll know if you don't.”

“I know, I know,” Lavi replied, grinning as he donned the thing, switching it on and immediately launching into a rollicking glissando. He made a giddy little noise, bouncing a little.

Link stared in bewilderment. “What just…?”

Lavi was now playing a random, poppy little ditty, and giving him a shit-eating grin. “He just lost a  _ great _ bet, that's what.”

“You  _ what _ .” If Lavi could feel Link's blood pressure rise from here last night, what effect did that have now? He was  _ furious _ . “You talked me into coming so you could win a bet? I can't believe you.”

“ _ Nooooooooo _ ,” Lavi moaned. “Link Link Link Howie Dink  _ pleeeease. _ ” Link turned and gave him a scathing glare for the drunken nickname. “I really am glad you’re here, I was afraid it’d get…”

_ Oh lord no _ .

“ _ Rained out _ ,” he finished, hissing with his inability to deliver the punchline with a straight face. Tyki and Allen howled with laughter.

“I’m leaving.” Link had had  _ quite _ enough of this. He turned to head back out the way he came.

Lavi’s eyes went wide when he realized he’d  _ actually _ pissed Link off, and caught his arm. Link turned to find a pleading, desperate Lavi imploring him. “Dink,  _ please _ , you gotta make it stop, Kanda was salty all day. C’mon, he's not back from work yet, but he'll be here in a bit? Hang out n’ shit til he gets here, yeah?” At that, a girl’s voice called out from the living room and his eyes went wide as he turned.

“ _ Is that who I think it is? _ ” Lavi called out, and he bolted out of the room, leaving Link in the kitchen with Tyki and Allen.

Tyki and Allen, who Link had never really… gotten to know, actually. Kanda had really put the effort into trying to establish some kind of bias, but beyond the few secondhand embarrassment-inducing conversations he’d borne witness to, Link really had nothing to go on.

This weekend was one full of firsts, it seemed. He sighed in resignation and turned to Tyki.

“You…  _ seriously _ bet a… whatever that was, against me coming tonight?” The idea that Link had been used on such pretenses honestly burned more than a little. But not only would they just laugh if he just left then and there, but he’d never forgive himself for chickening out of talking to Kanda for something so stupid.

“A,  _ keytar _ , and b, yes. Yes he did,” Allen cut in, replying for Tyki. The flush was low on his cheeks, amused smile growing. He waved a bottle vaguely, his body curving along Tyki’s side as the tanned hand on his hip wandered up and down his waistline aimlessly. “It was either that or Tyki got Lavi’s record player if you didn’t.”

Link arched an eyebrow, suspicious. “Since when were either of you two involved in this?” How did Link’s coming to this party become of interest to  _ them _ ? Beyond Lavi telling Tyki, obviously. 

Wait, if Lavi had tried to angle for Link coming tonight, that would’ve meant he made the bet  _ before _ Link texted Lavi…

“ _ Hah.  _ Since Lavi dragged us out to—” Allen was cut off at that point by Tyki, who had moved to silence him with a kiss. Link was almost mortally grateful for the lack of painfully unresolved tension this time around, blush though he may have.   
  
“None of that, boy,” Tyki chuckled melodically as he pulled away. “He’s not drunk enough yet.” He turned to Link, grinning dangerously. “Want a drink? You probably need one, right?”

“I don’t know how he talks to that guy sober, To Be Honest,” Allen muttered, snickering. Tyki turned and shushed him gently, so amused and fond but still trying to do something about how…  _ lippy  _ his boyfriend was getting from the booze.

“Let me make you something,” Tyki started again, and pulled away from Allen enough to turn to the rather extensive collection of bottles in front of him. His hand sailed over the necks and corks absently as he sought something in particular, and he made a small noise when he finally found his mark. He dashed over to the kitchen table to grab a wine bottle someone had left there, and grabbed a glass. 

Link watched Tyki work with a strange fascination. It was something like a mad scientist in a cartoon he watched when he was young and his dad still tried to make him like Saturday morning cartoons. He could almost picture his white button-up as a labcoat, the extensive makeshift bar in front of him his distillery.

Quickly enough, Tyki was offering him a glass of  _ something _ , the color of which was… hard to describe. Link regarded it curiously, before taking it from him and looking into the glass. He hadn’t noticed the labels on the bottles he had used, but he couldn’t decide what to make of the smell.

He took a sip and immediately tried not to gag. 

It tasted  _ awful _ , like a combination of cat urine and what Link could only describe as a wet basement. Or a wet ashtray. Swampy and musty and disgusting, but acidic and bubbly and just  _ ugh god what was in this why did he trust Tyki _ . He fought to try and keep it in his mouth if only for the sake of being polite.

Allen was trying to hold back laughter at how stalwart Link was trying to stay in the face of really bad alcohol. “What the fuck did you give him? He looks like he’s having an aneurysm.”

Tyki shrugged. “An Irish cunt.”

Link lost his little game of self-control and spit-took in a graceless spray. Allen dissolved into a giggling, delirious fit.

“Oh my god, what’s  _ wrong _ with you?” Something told Link he was actually concerned, but between trying to massage the bubbly paint thinner out of his sinuses and the lingering taste of pickled cigar he was far beyond any ability to read another human being consciously.

“Gotta get rid of this Blanc de Blanc  _ somehow _ ,” was Tyki’s lame reply as he picked up the bottle of cheap champagne. “God, Wisely, I thought you were better than this. Remind me to tell Lavi he’s not allowed here anymore.  _ We were all rooting for you _ ,” he mourned.

Link was still coughing when he felt a hand bump him on the arm. He turned to find Allen there, offering him an unassuming bottle of something light-colored.

“Here,” he said, his laughter dying down as Tyki resumed his spot next to him. “I promise this doesn’t taste like shit.” 

Link realized Allen was taking pity on him, but he took a moment to look at the label, scrunching his nose. “A cooler?”

“Lavi bought them for me since I won a bet last night too,” Allen sing-songed, grinning until Tyki covered Allen’s mouth in a way that could only be described as  _ affectionate _ .

Link didn’t typically do coolers; he preferred bourbon typically, if he was going to drink anything, but not only did he not trust anyone here to have any to his liking to begin with, he also didn’t trust Tyki not to make something else positively revolting.

He sighed, and took a drink, finding the taste almost childishly sweet, but far preferable to whatever disgusting swill Tyki had tried to poison him with.

“It'll do,” Link grumbled. Allen laughed, clear and open, and clinked the neck of his bottle on Link's.

“There we go.”

 

* * *

 

Another cooler and forty five minutes later, Link was doing  _ well,  _ if ‘well’ meant ‘actually laughing at jokes and not actively feeling attacked by Lavi's mere presence’. 

He had actually gotten to know Allen and Tyki better; while Link didn't really relate to the creative process he found Tyki's work to be quite interesting, having listened to him get into a rather passionate tirade about his EP, and actually laughed at the story behind the drum samples he was using. He was all but relieved to learn that Allen didn't write as much smut as he'd been led to believe. Which was still a good amount, but Drunk Link didn't judge quite like Sober Link might.

After finishing his second cooler, Link finally reached for a bottle from the case of Oberon someone had contributed and followed Lavi out into the rest of the party, feeling distinctly less uncomfortable with the crowd of people he didn’t know.

Another Oberon later, Kanda finally arrived.

Link almost didn’t see him at first; he had run into the trio from the cafe that seemed intent on making Kanda’s job harder for him, and he was trying to figure out how they had gone from discussing how their antics were really their way of trial by fire for the new barista to discussing ballet and food. Drunk Link wasn’t following the trail very easily, but the ballet conversation was incredibly engaging, at least, and he had enjoyed talking to the blue haired one about cooking.

When Kanda slipped past, Link caught sight of him only when he was weaving through people and heading further into the house. He turned, opening his mouth to call out, when Lavi appeared at his elbow.

“He just got back from work. Don’t worry, he’ll be back,” he said, grinning and throwing an arm around Link’s shoulders to usher him away. “But look at you! You’re making friends! I’m so proud.” He fake-wept, brushing away a pretend tear as Link tried to excuse himself from the conversation with the undergrads.

“You stay here, Dink, and I’ll steer him your way, yeah? It’ll be great,” he said, somewhat quiet and intense despite his shit eating grin. If Link were any more sober, he would have told him to keep his voice down. But as things were, it was alright. 

Link drifted over toward the couch, nursing his beer and fiddling with his phone, knowing better than to call anyone but instead choosing to flick through Facebook idly and making conversation without committing too fully.

Kanda appeared some time later, a beer in his hand, looking fresh and as though he hadn’t just spent a day sweating it out behind an espresso machine. He looked  _ amused _ , which, while was rather out of character for what Link had seen of Kanda, was a really good look on him. Even four beers in, Link could feel the sarcasm dripping off of him, but at least it wasn’t really vicious or anything this time.

“Oh my god, he wasn’t kidding,” Kanda laughed when he came close. “How many have you had?”

Link… actually took a moment to figure that out. “Four, I think,” Link chuckled a little. “Not really like me to drink this much beer.” Kanda studied his face for a moment, that snarky, amused grin growing a little. 

“When was the last time you had anything stronger than coffee, old man…?” he asked, snickering as he took a drink. He didn’t wait for a response, adding, “Never thought I’d see you here, drunk, and talking to people.”

Link shrugged lamely. “I don’t drink that often,” he replied, “but this was mostly about passing time, and maybe not being so anxious around people.”   
  
“What, you don’t do parties? I’m shocked,” Kanda barked, laughing. “A buttoned up history student like you? No wonder you’re so fucking tense all the time.”   


Link made a face and defensively downed more of his beer. “I’m not… I’ve never been used to this kind of thing,” he tried to explain, “I think I’ve mentioned it before.”

Kanda nodded, still smiling. “ _ Dress the part or bring two lunches _ , right. I remember that,” he replied. His smile had an edge to it, Link noticed, and he was hoping they wouldn’t have to talk about it out here in the open like this. “See, I didn’t really fit in with the cool parties either, but. You make your own fun in those situations.”

Despite being focused on what Kanda was saying, Link distantly caught Lavi's inebriated voice plucked out from the crowd of people.   
  
"Watch this. I'm about to be brilliant," Link heard, and he didn't even have time to look before a shoulder connected between his shoulder blades, jostling him and forcing him right into Kanda.   
  
Then Link's chest met Kanda's as all three of them went down and his heart stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some footnotes cause there are a couple regional/in-joke things that need mentioning
> 
> \- the irish cunt is a drink that was supposedly created by one of the guys from lcd soundsystem, it's a combination in any ratio of champagne and jameson. it was titty's idea and i went with it lmao  
> \- oberon is a beer from my home state of michigan! titty and i kind of agreed that this college is more or less based on central michigan university, which is in my hometown, but it's definitely not _quite_ cmu. true neutral itself is based on a coffeeshop just on the edge of campus there! but yeah back to the beer, it's kind of a michigan summer staple from bell's brewery, based in kalamazoo. they literally just go together— summer, tubing down the chippewa river and a tube for your cooler full of oberon. (or summer shandy, but that's leinenkugel and not quite so grassroots.)


	7. Chapter 7*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whether Link will give him credit for it or not, Lavi kinda pushes things along. Tyki helps, not that Kanda will ever appreciate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys. guys. i'm so sorry.
> 
> my life kinda went to shit and i literally had no energy or inspiration to write. i've been sitting on this for over a month and actually i was going to hang onto it until _all_ the smut was done, but then we'd be stuck in this holding pattern for longer. not to mention i was staring at over 5k's worth of chapter and i... kinda knew i needed to split it up.
> 
> i love everyone who's reading my writing. thanks for sticking with me.

“ _ Lavi, you fucking dumbass! _ ”

Link had fallen against Kanda to the couch, while Lavi had half-rolled to his side against another partygoer. Lavi shoved back onto his heels, slipping off the couch and onto his butt, laughing.

“Hahaaa, sorry guys! Hadn't tried walking for a minute!” There was something conniving and purposeful in Lavi's laughing tone that even Link in his drunken state could notice, but clearly Kanda hadn't picked up on it.

“Then quit drinking, dipshit! I'm not dragging your ass to bed!”

It could be said that Link was _on top_ _of_ Kanda, but despite the way he could feel their hearts pounding against each other Link couldn't find anything enjoyable about it, from the anger and annoyance emanating from Kanda to the beer bottles in their hands, trapped between their wet stomachs.

_ Oh god the beer. _ Link recoiled from Kanda’s body, praying that the damage wasn't too extensive, but unfortunately the beer had gotten them both in the tumble and both of their shirts were splotched wet in the very middle with spilled beer. Kanda realized where he was looking and made the angriest noise Link had ever heard from him.

“You  _ fucker _ , this was a fresh shirt!” He yelled, pushing up from the couch and advancing on Lavi.

“Dude, sorry! I'll put money on the laundry card, promise!” Lavi whimpered, getting up from the floor and brushing himself off. “I'll pay for our laundry this week, just throw it in my hamper, bro.”

Kanda stormed away, heading once more toward the back of the apartment. Link stood there, watching the furious flick of his ponytail behind him until he was gently shoved after him.

Link caught himself, turning back to glare at Lavi. “What the hell—?”

Lavi just gestured wildly, desperately trying to convey the look on his face.  _ What are you doing, Dink? Follow him! _

Link realized what this had really been about, gave Lavi a stormy look of his own and stumbled after Kanda.

* * *

 

Kanda was about to slam his bedroom door when he caught sight of Link coming down the hall.

“What the fuck? What do you want?”

Rather than bring up the meaningful look Lavi had given him, Link's sense of self preservation supplied him with, “Seemed like a good idea, compared to letting Lavi make me clean the couch.”

Kanda lifted a brow incredulously, as if to say,  _ are you kidding me _ , and then gave a rough shrug and a roll of his eyes before letting Link in.

Link stepped inside, standing there lamely as he looked around the room. The room was decently lit for nighttime, illuminating the light mess of clothing and toolboxes of paints and art supplies around them. The walls, while originally white, it seemed, were covered in spiral-bound fringe-edged pencil sketches of various sizes and the occasional watercolour study. They didn’t necessarily paper the walls, but they dominated the space, the sketches held up by tacks and the watercolors by tape, and Link found himself gravitating towards one concentrated area to look closer. 

The sketches, while messy and lacking polish, were actually very well composed, and the watercolors had a strange, translucent quality to them. They had the look of being  _ shaded _ with color, the pictures appearing whitewashed like an overexposed photo, and inked lines were added later to give it contour and movement.

He was examining a rather large piece featuring lotus flowers when he heard a noise behind him. Kanda, in the middle of tossing his ruined shirt at the door, groaned. “Your shirt too,” he groused, making a face. “If you don’t mind Lavi losing his fucking mind implying shit I can lend you one.”

Link was too shocked for the words to really register in his brain. He was completely thrown off by the two thick scars that crossed Kanda’s chest, right underneath his pectorals.

Link paled, suddenly filled with a sense that he wasn't meant to see it.

Kanda was  _ trans _ . God, but it all made  _ sense _ . The graceful features, his slim frame, even the softness of his lips, they added up. It wasn’t anything he had consciously looked for, but it clicked in the moment. Random details from their exchanges over the past week came rushing into his head.

_ I acted out because I couldn't talk about my feelings, didn't even know how to.  _

“ _ O-oh _ — I-I didn’t— are you…?”

Kanda paused in the middle of pushing his dresser drawer back in, clearly recognizing that look  _ immediately _ . “Got a problem?” he asked archly, his eyebrow raised.  _ Expectant _ . That was the look on Kanda’s face.

_ Did _ he have a problem? Link wasn’t really sure he did, if he was being honest. He had thought Kanda to be a man from the minute they met; was there any reason that should somehow change?

Kanda was still expecting an answer.

“… No,” Link actually found it rather easy to say, albeit hastily. “I just… I didn’t realize.”

“If you leave it at that, I’d almost take that as a compliment,” Kanda replied, still edging on that tense, expectant tone. Waiting for the conversation to turn into a fight.

“I’m… definitely not sober enough to trust myself to ask  _ good _ questions, so, I suppose,” Link reasoned, turning back to the art on the wall behind him. “You… pass quite magnificently, if that’s okay to say,” he added quietly.

The soft chuff of a laugh he heard behind him told Link that Kanda was relaxing once more. “It’s not bad, at least,” was Kanda’s reply, amused. “I think you’re one of the first people to not misgender me on sight, though.” Link looked back as Kanda shook his head such to illustrate his ponytail, the long hair switching back and forth.

Link suddenly remembered that dark glare Kanda had given him when he caught him staring the first day they met. “Oh  _ god _ ,” Link sighed, dragging a palm down his face. “Did you think I was trying to figure you out or something?” he asked, turning to look at him. “That day when you burned my milk.”

Kanda snickered and nodded as he just watched Link examine his room. “Well, yeah, but then you didn’t say anything or even  _ act _ like you’d clocked me, so…”   
  
“I was completely oblivious,” Link replied bashfully, turning away again, breath edging on a laugh. “I was staring because…” Why  _ had _ he been staring? Was there anyone else in the shop even  _ worth _ looking at? He gave into the laugh then. 

“You were  _ gorgeous _ but you were so  _ confrontational _ . I was trying to figure out if I wanted you or hated you.”

“Did you figure it out?” 

“I can't believe you'd have to ask.”

“No? I think you and I remember this past week a  _ lot _ differently.”

And with that, Link’s blood rushed in his ears as his heart started racing. He still needed to talk about Kanda about what happened.

He instead opted to study another drawing, facing away to hide the flush coming to his cheeks and finding a few more minutes’ solace in the tension in the air rather than addressing it.

“Your art is incredible,” he heard himself say a few minutes later. After a moment of confused silence, Kanda gave him a funny look. Link couldn’t really blame him for being thrown for a loop.

“Oh, right, you wanted to… Yeah, it’s pretty good, I guess,” Kanda replied, caught off guard, his tone a little stiff but not cold. He nodded in the general direction of a hodgepodged stack of finished canvases leaning against the opposite wall. “The acrylics are what the old man was teaching me, but I switched to watercolour sometime before I had top surgery. More of a challenge, but easier to achieve cool effects n’ shit. Inking them with a fountain pen was a cool trick I started adding this spring, makes for some awesome contrast and texture.”

Link was about to turn to the collection of acrylics when Kanda planted his hand against the dresser, blocking his path.

“Why are you here?” Kanda's tone was calm and somewhat neutral, but his words were half-question, half-demand. 

Link swallowed thickly, backing away. He could feel a blush coming on, spreading in a warm swath up his neck and over his jaw. With Kanda placing himself directly in Link’s personal space, it was impossible to ignore that Kanda was still very much shirtless. He’d been managing not to let himself lose concentration up to that point by focusing on the art on the walls, but Kanda had him pinned with eyes that searched for answers.

In the end, Link couldn’t keep himself from looking. His gaze flickered downward, his eyes trailing over bare skin, his scar, his flat stomach, down to the waistband peeking out from under  his jeans and back up. There was no point in pretending he hadn’t done it, and while Kanda seemed amused, he stared at him expectantly, raising an eyebrow. Link knew he'd pay for it sooner or later.

“I… I came to apologize,” Link finally answered, intending to back away, put some air between them, but the look in Kanda’s eyes had him rooted to the spot.

Kanda snorted. “Go on.”

Link took a breath, trying not to shrink away from that intense,  _ intent-filled _ gaze. “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry for throwi—”   
  
“No, you’re not,” Kanda laughed humorlessly, silencing him. “You’re not sorry for last night at  _ all _ .”

Link’s blood  _ boiled _ .

“You didn’t even let me finish, but fine. Hell, I’ll bite. What do  _ you _ think I’m sorry for, then?” he demanded peevishly, folding his arms.

Kanda started advancing on him, forcing Link to blindly stumble backwards, scrambling to save his own sanity. He was starkly reminded of Kanda’s own sobriety, and realized then that he was in the lair of a beast, angry and stirred up by none other than Link himself.

“You’re sorry for fucking  _ slipping up _ . You’re sorry for letting yourself go, for somebody who isn’t  _ smart  _ enough for you, or  _ good _ enough for you, or whatever it is you’re so fucking  _ hung up—  _ Seriously, what's your goddamn hang up? You don't even care that I don't have a dick? What  _ is _ it then?!”

“That is absolutely  _ not _ what this is about, Kanda,” Link hissed, cutting him off. He glared at him, affronted and absolutely  _ disgusted _ by how shallowly Kanda had misread him. 

“Then tell me what the fuck your  _ problem _ is!” Kanda barked, pounding a fist against the dresser. “I don’t know how your shitty mind games work, alright? You send me mixed signals from day fucking one, and then you kiss me and push me off the second I start returning the favor? Get over yourself and quit fucking around with me! Say what you mean, do what you fucking want and commit, none of this are-you-or-aren't-you bullshit…! God, trying to make sense of you gives me anxie—”

_ Fine then. _

Link either launched himself at Kanda then or he grabbed his head and pulled him in, he wasn’t sure, but he found the air from Kanda’s mouth far easier to breathe than the air around them, hostile and full of tension as it was. It was painful and sloppy, their teeth crashing together and pinching their lips as they fought, but as the gnash of teeth and tongues found a rhythm, their mouths started to take less abuse.

_ God _ , did it feel good then.

It was a  _ mess _ , to be honest; they were both fighting for dominance, their hands were  _ everywhere _ , it was a flurry of limbs and lips and then Link’s hands were trailing away from his neck and roaming onward. He grasped at Kanda's shoulders first, slid them down his chest, felt his smooth, warm skin under his hands. Kanda's own hands were wandering; he pulled at his shirt, his arms, jerking him about as they kissed. It was like he was trying to fight Link and kiss him at the same time, his ponytail swishing as he moved.

The feeling of Kanda's hair against Link’s hands as they came back up to rest in the crooks of Kanda's neck brought back a familiar urge, as old as the strange dance between the two of them. Link brought one hand sliding up from Kanda's collarbone, smoothing over his jaw and behind his ear, curling around the back of his head and steadying him. As he panted and gasped into Kanda’s mouth, Link let his fingers glide with the grain of his glossy, coarse hair, sliding down til his palm met elastic.

He curled his hand around Kanda's ponytail and  _ pulled, _ just like he'd wanted to for the past week and a half, and Kanda  _ growled _ as his head pitched back.

The noise shot right down Link’s spine, and his brain short circuited for a moment from the erotic charge it gave his system. Having broken the kiss when he pulled Kanda's hair, he had a gorgeous view of Kanda's bare throat, and Link surged forward, pressing his face into the crook between the angle of his jaw and the hollow of his collarbone. He paused for only a moment, breathing in Kanda's sweat-coffee-sandalwood scent that ebbed with the pulse jackhammering through his jugular.

“I've wanted to do that since I met you,” Link murmured when he found his words again, his breath huffing hot into the close space, and as he tightened the hand in Kanda's hair to a fist he slipped his hand under Kanda's arm and up to catch his shoulder. “I've... wanted to do a lot, actually,” he admitted, a breathless, almost bashful chuckle punctuating the sentence into Kanda's skin. He bit down on the marble column of his neck and Kanda made a sharp, keening sound, mouth falling open around the noise. His hands found Link’s hips as he began to sink against him, gripping him tight and harsh and  _ perfect _ , and when Link bit him again he brought their hips slamming together. Link groaned arduously, nerves on fire at the electrifying press of Kanda's weight against his own, and pulled away from the mark he was making in the hollow of Kanda's neck to bring him back in by the back of his head for a kiss, thirsty and feverish with the building heat.

They stayed like that for a few moments, rutting on one another through their pants desperately, gasping and whispering barely-formed words of want into each other's mouths, and when Link brought his hands to Kanda's hips Kanda’s hands left his, sliding up his stomach to start unbuttoning his shirt. 

“I had some ideas,” Kanda chuckled into Link’s mouth, beginning to kiss his way over to his jaw, and Link sighed as Kanda nibbled down his neck. He shivered as the tails of his short-sleeve and his undershirt were yanked out of his waistband, and gasped when Kanda roughly pushed the front of his undershirt up and fought the shirts over his head and off.

“So many fucking layers,” he grumbled, and when he started kissing down his chest Link couldn't be bothered to respond, moaning and melting into him instead. Kanda used his unsteadiness to push him in the direction of his bed, forcing him to sit at the edge and settling himself between Link’s knees. 

Kanda looked up at him then, and Link’s heart stopped all over again. 

His eyes, dark and beautiful as Link had always known them, stared up at him, heated and  _ hungry _ , hungrier than anything. Link  _ burned  _ under the heat of that intense gaze. Though the reality of the moment suddenly seemed intangible, the one thing that really, truly felt real was that: Kanda’s flamelike gaze, his plush lips slick and swollen, rooting him to the spot with want.

“I swear, if this is where you push—”   
  
“ _ No _ ,” Link gasped all too quickly, too far gone to be any kind of embarrassed at how fast he was to cut him off, “no don’t… don’t stop.” The words left him with all his breath, gusty and overwhelmed.

Kanda smirked at that, reaching up to palm him through his pants and grinning when Link’s knees jerked up a little around him reflexively from the sheer  _ sensation _ of it. “Say it or I’ll stop.”   
  
“Say wh—  _ oh god, suck me, _ ” Link finished on a moan when Kanda squeezed him in prompt. Kanda laughed at him a little before going for his fly, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Link, flushed in the face and hazy in the brain, kicked off his shoes, and after a frustrated moment of concentration spent pulling Link’s pants and underwear down and away, Kanda started to look up and froze when his eyes found Link’s half-hard dick.

Link was already panting from the feel of the air on his skin and squirmed from how he was being stared at. “ _ Christ _ , you’re thick,” Kanda said finally. He reached out and took him in hand, feeling the weight of him, and gave his length a few pumps before taking him into his mouth.

Link quite nearly  _ shouted _ the instant it happened, it felt so good. What Kanda lacked in tact, he made up for in… practically everything else. Link could hardly think straight; between the way Kanda was tonguing the underside of his cock and how he worked his hand over what his mouth didn’t cover, Link’s control slipped away almost instantly. It took what little clarity remained to keep from thrusting into his mouth, despite Kanda’s clear intent to take him even deeper.

Link’s hand smoothed over Kanda’s hair, holding the back of his head almost possessively. His own head started to fall back, beginning to lose himself to the feeling of Kanda’s mouth, when he felt Kanda squeeze his thigh. Link’s eyes snapped open, looking down at him, and watched, held captive by the look of those dark eyes staring up at him through his bangs, as his hand was guided back to Kanda’s ponytail once more.

_ Oh god _ . Link’s fingers started to work their way in between Kanda’s scalp and his hairtie, grunting when he didn’t find much room to grab with. His frustration quickly became such that he grabbed the ponytail holder itself, trying to yank it free when the cursed thing  _ broke _ . As Kanda hissed his disapproval, Link watched smooth, black hair cascade over Kanda’s shoulders. 

And then the time for appreciation was over and Link took Kanda’s hair in a tight, messy fistful and  _ pulled _ , relishing the way Kanda’s voice carried as he was pulled off Link’s cock. 

“ _ Shit…! _ ” Kanda hissed, eyes screwed shut. He grit his teeth for but a second, but was panting as the apparent sting faded. “God, like that,  _ yes _ ,” he groaned, when Link tightened his grip. Link guided him back to his tip, starting to press Kanda’s head down over his length. Kanda didn’t really need prompting; he almost started moving his head before Link was ready for him to, and it took him a minute to regain what few senses he had left.

It was  _ incredible _ . In his state he couldn’t put a number to how long it’d been since he’d been in this exact position, but god, did it feel amazing to have Kanda’s mouth around him, cheeks hollowed, eyes,  _ oh god his eyes _ , dark and burning with want. Link himself was burning up, could feel the feverish delirium of his lust flushing his skin like heat haze. His fingers tightened around Kanda’s hair, starting to pull him back and forth—

And then he pulled Kanda off with a start as someone came crashing through the bedroom door, before pulling him back in against himself possessively.

For a single frozen second Link and Kanda stared in abject terror and confusion as Tyki regained his footing. Using the doorframe to support himself he pulled himself up by the doorknob, swinging wildly with the movement of the door itself. He started when he realized Kanda and Link were there, eyes going wide with delighted amazement.

“Oh my god, are you really—”

“ _ Get out _ ,” Link growled, at the same time that he heard Kanda spit “ _ Get the fuck out! _ ”   
  
“Holy  _ shit _ ,” Tyki had the audacity to  _ laugh _ , hand still on the doorknob, “at least put a fucking sock on the door or something, you animals.” Grinning, he reached into his pocket and chucked a foil condom packet at them, which hit Link square in the chest before falling between them. He then turned away and closed the door, still laughing as he reached for his tie with his free hand, pulling it loose as the door latched.

They stared at the door for a second before they met each other’s eyes, wide with adrenaline. Kanda’s eyes found the condom that had fallen to Link’s thigh and glared.   
  
“I’m  _ not _ fucking using that,” Kanda spat, “I’m not using anything that came from that asshole.”

Link rolled his eyes, giving Kanda’s hair a tug in retaliation and smiling thin and polite when Kanda winced and gasped. “Well I  _ am _ , so get up here—” He let go of Kanda’s hair, tugging him up onto the bed by the arms. Kanda started to press him back onto the bed, but Link countered him, catching Kanda's wrists and rolling him onto his back. 

He held him there for a moment as he settled over Kanda, pinning his wrists under his hands and his hips between his knees. As soon as Link had caught his breath he wasted no time in coming back down to kiss him again, a touch slower than before, but with that same initial intensity. He didn't try to stop himself when his hips started to roll against Kanda's, groaning a little into the kiss as he started to turn rough and biting with his kisses once more. Grinding against denim and zipper like this was hardly ideal, but Link could feel how Kanda was getting worked up underneath him all the same, and it riled Link even further. 

Link let go of one of Kanda's hands to reach for his fly, once he realized he didn't have to grind against it if he didn't want to. He broke the kiss, pulling away from Kanda's abused lower lip to watch his face as he tugged the waistband of his jeans and underwear down. Kanda was flushed and panting, hair sticking to his forehead, watching Link from below through lust-narrowed eyes. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Link murmured, watching his chest heave with his breath. He let go of Kanda’s other hand and continued shuffling his clothes down his legs until Kanda could kick them off himself, and slipped his hand between them to palm him. Kanda gave a heavy whine as the heel of Link’s palm pressed against his small, sensitive length.

_ Oh _ .

“W-wait, is this okay—” Link’s hand faltered, but before he could pull away Kanda’s hand joined his, trapping him against his mound. Link’s eyes snapped to Kanda’s face, mesmerized by how Kanda’s eyes slipped closed, gasping for breath and desperate for more contact.

“If it feels good I  _ don’t fucking care _ ,” Kanda ground out between his teeth. “ _ Fuck _ ….”

The words bounced around in Link’s head, through the cloud of lust that finally started to settle in him. He started rubbing at Kanda’s dick, gasping when Kanda started to guide his fingers around him. He gave a try at rolling his fingers up and down along Kanda’s length and jumped a little when Kanda’s hips bucked against him. Was it really this easy to get him so worked up?

Link settled on his side, tucked against Kanda as he worked his thumb and fingers over him, breath stolen when Kanda hauled him in for a kiss as he writhed against Link, reaching to take him in hand again. They were starting to find a rhythm like this, grinding and pawing at each other and thrusting into each other’s hands, and wow, it was like Kanda was literally coming to life under his touch. Even if Kanda hadn’t started to jerk him off in return, Link doubted he  _ wouldn’t _ be hard just from how responsive Kanda had turned out to be.

Link’s hand was getting slippery as Kanda became more aroused, and while it was  _ different _ it wasn’t by any means unpleasant. He tried giving Kanda a squeeze, and a higher-pitched, heavy moan split the space between them in response, arduous and full. Kanda made another sharp cry when he started to form a rhythm, and it hit Link suddenly how close to coming Kanda really was.

“Shit,” Kanda panted into his mouth. “Fuck, let go, I won’t last—” Link pulled his hand away hastily, watching Kanda as he lay there, gasping and trying to piece himself back together. He looked completely debauched already— messy hair everywhere, panting, sweating,  _ trembling _ with need.

_ Beautiful _ , Link thought as he leaned down to kiss Kanda, relishing the feel of his open mouth as Kanda tried to catch his breath around his tongue. He laughed a little, drunk and stupidly ensnared as Kanda pushed him away to catch his breath. The panting eventually evened out to warm, heavy breath, and Link was content to just watch as he gradually came back to himself.

After a moment, Kanda’s expression turned frustrated and he let out a groan, throwing one arm over his eyes. “ _ Why did I make you stop _ ,” he moaned sourly.

Link’s eyebrows shot up at that, amused that he would regret it now that he was backing away from that edge. “I’m pretty sure you were… five seconds from coming? Is that a good guess?” he hazarded as he sat up. Kanda just groaned and lifted his arm away to look at Link, sizing him up.

After a moment, he just sighed. “Fuck me then,” was the simplest and most overwhelming reply Kanda could have possibly thought up, but there it was. Link’s mind boggled for a moment.

“Um…?” 

It was Kanda’s turn to raise his eyebrows incredulously. “What, you’re hard as a fucking rock, you just almost got me off with your hand and you want to  _ stop here _ ? Fuck me.”

“I— I just—  _ I mean _ ,” Link’s words fumbled in his mouth as his still-semi-buzzed brain tried to figure out how best to ask. “ _ Where _ ,” he finished finally.

To his credit, Kanda didn’t get angry or seem offended.

He did, however, throw his head back and cackle. 

Laughed right in Link’s face, in all his naked, post-almost-orgasm glory. 

After a second or two, he rolled onto his side, patting Link’s cheek a little harshly. “Alright,” he said, still laughing, “I guess it’s my turn to lead the fucking proceedings.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so..... i tried my absolute hardest to write certain parts of this chapter as respectfully as i could. if anybody wants to talk, leave a comment, cause i'm all ears. i really, really hope y'all are down to clown with trans kanda, cause he's here to stay.
> 
> random note: i've long held the opinion that what's in someone's pants doesn't matter unless you're trying to get in them, and i find it hilarious that it ended up being no different in my writing. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	8. Chapter 8*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Kanda's turn to lead the fucking proceedings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKING FINALLY

Link was a little dumbstruck. Kanda’s turn…? But… 

After a moment of breath-catching and amused chuckling, Kanda pushed Link onto his back, rolling on top of him to straddle his thighs as Link had done to him earlier. With a disdainful look, he reached for the condom Tyki had thrown at them and stared at it scornfully.

“I’m  _ only _ using this because otherwise I’d have to put clothes back on and get one from the bathroom,” he muttered after a moment, stubborn and unhappy. Link couldn’t help but chuckle a little, unable to tell who he was really saying that to. He watched as Kanda tore open the packet, reaching up to guide his hands and rolling his eyes when Link was swatted away. 

“I know what I’m fuckin’ doing,” Kanda grumbled despite his little smirk, rolling the condom onto Link’s length slowly, grinning at how Link’s dick twitched at the cold and the contact. When he was done he give Link a squeeze, seeming to relish Link’s answering moan, before pulling away and reaching for his bedside table drawer and locating lube.

Breathing a little heavy as he watched him dispense some lube into his hand, Link shuddered and bit his lip as Kanda took him in hand again and gave him a few strokes. “Normally I wouldn’t need it, but… yeah,” Kanda muttered. “You’re big.”

Link's laugh shivered out of him as Kanda applied the lube, back arching a little just before he took his hand away. Some part of Drunk Link hadn't been fully steamed out yet, but this perceived event horizon gave him pause all the same.

“Are you sure you want me to—”

“ _ Oh my god shut up _ ,” Kanda groaned, rising up on his knees to get into position. “Quit trying to be so  _ careful _ . You're going to ruin literally everything, try-hard.”

Wisely, Link shut up and chose to stop thinking so hard. He reached up to brush the fall of Kanda's hair over his shoulder as Kanda leaned over him.

“You do look good up there, though,” Link murmured hazily.

Kanda rolled his eyes, exasperated, but looked pleased despite himself. He planted his hand on Link's chest to steady himself, and started to lower himself down onto his length.

Kanda's hiss cut through the air, sharp and gasping for air as he started to take him in slowly. And Link didn't have the voice to put to it, but god, did he sympathize; Kanda was  _ tight.  _ Hot, and tight, and god  _ damn _ —

Link looked up at Kanda, taken aback at the heated look in his eyes, eager enough to make up for his discomfort. Kanda seemed to catch the worry in Link’s eyes, pressing down on Link's chest a little heavier to keep him in place.

“God,” Kanda groaned once more as he guided himself down over him slowly. “You’re a monster.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” was Link’s reply, sheepishly in spite of himself. “Feels—”

Kanda and Link both cried out then as they bottomed out, Kanda's nails digging into Link’s chest at the sensation. As Link hissed and tensed at the pain, he heard a  _ fuck _ slip from Kanda's mouth between gasps. He watched as Kanda let his head fall back as he took a moment to just  _ breathe _ and get used to being so full.

“Shit,” Kanda moaned, in that eloquent way of his. 

Link was inclined to agree. He could feel every shift and movement Kanda made like this, every twitch of his hips, the shift as Kanda bowed over forwards for a second. 

Kanda began lifting his hips, then, and Link couldn’t take his eyes off him. There was nothing outside of them, outside the silky fall of Kanda’s hair, the tight draw of his eyebrows, the tight heat of Kanda’s core around him. So, so perfectly tight and hot and  _ god _ they were only starting and Link was already wrapped up in the moment.

Kanda’s hips came slamming back down, as he gave a sharp moan, and it wasn’t long from there before the two of them began to form a steady, driven tempo. Link’s hands began to wander again, up Kanda’s thighs, along his sides, over his chest, until he found a place to plant them at his waist. As their rhythm smoothed out, Link’s grip began to tighten, thumbs working over hipbones as he began to thrust into him a little more eagerly.

Kanda gasped a ‘ _ fuck _ ’, thin and breathy, as Link drove into him from underneath. His fingers were dragging red lines down Link’s chest, leaving shallow marks that would surely sting like catscratch come morning. They were well matched; Kanda scratching on Link while Link squeezed bruises to life on Kanda’s lower ribs.

It was a noisy, perfect mess, the kind that filled one up until it consumed their senses. In fact, it took some time to notice that Kanda was actually  _ saying _ things under his breath, inlaid within his panting. 

“Shit…. More, god,” Link heard, and he realized that even riding him as hard as he was, Kanda was either getting tired or frustrated. As hard as they were fucking, Kanda could only go so fast.

“Wait,” Link breathed urgently. “Kanda—”

Kanda’s expression at being told to  _ wait _ was stricken, angry and confused all at once, and things being as they were the combination of the three was… intriguing, in the moment. Link reached out to take Kanda by the waist, and before any protest could be made he began to roll them over, grunting when he slipped out of Kanda. Kanda stared up at him, breathless and wearing that surprised, unguarded look that Link had really come to treasure. 

As Link shifted around to get back into position, he leaned down to press an open kiss to Kanda’s mouth, slow but hungry. He lined himself up and pushed into him once more, humming against the groan Kanda let loose.

Link started moving, and the heat returned tenfold.

His hands found their way up Kanda’s sides, over his chest, down his arms until they reached his wrists and grabbed hold. Link pinned him firmly, but nothing about his hold was rough as he pumped into Kanda, slowly picking up speed once more. 

And god, Kanda  _ loved _ it. He could tell in the way he rolled against him, the way he gasped and swore into Link’s mouth when Link kissed him again, the flick of his hair as he threw his head back when Link gave him a particularly deep thrust. Link pressed down as he fucked him, enjoying the squeeze of Kanda’s thighs tightening around his waist, kissing and biting at the soft jut of his collarbone. And when Kanda couldn’t be driven out of any more of his sanity, Link released one of Kanda’s wrists to grope and feel a trail down his front once more.

“Fuck… god,  _ yes _ … Don’t stop, you fucking…  _ ah! _ ” Kanda cried out helplessly when Link started stroking and rubbing at his length again. He was wet and messy and  _ jesus _ was Link into it, into getting all these reactions out of Kanda, fucking the snark right out of him, this man of cold anger and disinterested sarcasm. He worked his hand mindlessly, savoring the noise as Kanda lost his mind under him. 

Link chose that moment of heightening madness to squeeze, and that was all it took.

Kanda’s orgasm was like shattering glass, magnificent and devastating as he fell apart on the sheets with a loud cry. Link moaned into Kanda’s skin as Kanda tangibly seized up around him, fucking into him even harder than before, blindly chasing the spring coiling in his core.

Kanda, gasping and wincing as he was fucked through his release, drew Link down by the scalp for a kiss, dirty and a little painful and  _ amazing _ . They rocked together, Kanda writhing under him while he attacked Link’s lips and tongue with his teeth. When eventually Link released his other wrist, Kanda reached for Link’s back, harshly grabbing hold, nails digging into his skin. Link growled into his mouth in response, taking Kanda by the shoulders as he thrust into him rougher, hurtling closer as Kanda clenched around him—

The heat blew out in a burst of white. Finally.  _ Finally _ . Link came with a cry of relief, buried in Kanda and reeling as the tension in him unwound wildly. His rhythm eventually fell apart as he slowed, and eventually he stopped thrusting and began to pull out as he slumped down over Kanda.

Kanda, the gorgeous thing now coming back to himself again. He looked  _ wrecked _ , and rightly so— how long had Link gone past Kanda’s breaking point? Aware, but panting, bangs sweat-plastered to his face, eyes still just that side of hazy; he was utterly spent. Link let go of one of his wrists and brought it up to brush the hair away from Kanda’s eyes and cheeks, panting as though he’d nearly drowned in him.

Link sighed a little, an attempt at a hum, as his hand dropped and he began to sink down on Kanda’s chest. The bed had more than warmed up, and with post-orgasm exhaustion creeping in, he couldn’t help but draw close. 

Kanda growled a little, struggling in protest.

“ _ No _ , you don’t,” Kanda panted, giving Link’s shoulders an aborted shove. “No falling asleep on me... C’mon. At least take the fucking…” He huffed as he gingerly picked the condom off of Link’s length, reaching one-handed over the edge of the bed and coming back with a discarded shirt of some kind. He wiped the both of them off before tossing the shirt at the laundry hamper, then tied the condom and dropped it in the wastebasket under the nightstand.

“Come on, off,” Kanda groaned as he rolled Link off of himself and onto his side. “Being suffocated by a  _ nerd _ after sex is the  _ least _ satisfying way I could possibly want to die.” Link sighed as he rolled onto his back next to him, chuckling lazily, and turned to look at Kanda. Kanda lay there, looking ahead to the other side of the room, catching his breath as he glanced at Link. “You’re the worst.”

News to Link. “Am I…?”

Kanda stared at him, one eyebrow raised. Link wasn’t catching on. He blinked as Kanda sighed and rolled his eyes. “Nevermind,” he groaned. “I guess I should be thankful you even fucking  _ finished _ .” He sat up just a little and reached for a fresh hair tie from the nightstand. “Come in  _ my  _ house, spill beer on  _ my  _ shirt, break my… ugh, you broke my fucking  _ hair tie _ ,” he bitched as he pulled his hair into one of his low ponytails. “You’re the worst.”

Link at least understood now, but listening to Kanda’s complaining was, honestly, pretty funny. “Should I go…?” he began to ask a little hazily. Kanda’s frustrated growl and backhand to the chest, while lacking any real sting, could’ve been answer enough.

“Ugh,  _ no _ . How drunk  _ are _ you still…? Fuck it, just stay here,” Kanda decided as Link’s amused snickering died down. “Yeah. Stay here. Not like you can go anywhere like this anyway.” He settled back into his place next to Link.

Link slipped his hand across Kanda’s stomach in reply, before hooking him at the waist and pulling him closer. He brought his lips to the skin on Kanda’s shoulder, kissing up towards his neck. Kanda bristled at first, squirming, then relaxed a little, despite the hitch of his breath.

“A-alright, already,” he tried to complain, shuddering. “Just go to sleep.”

“Alright,” Link demurred, lips still wandering across Kanda’s collarbone and up onto his neck. After a minute of shivering, barely-audible gasping quivering between them, Kanda pushed Link over onto his back, holding him down by the shoulders.

“Seriously, I  _ do _ have work tomorrow. Go the fuck to sleep.”

Link just laughed a little as he put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay,” he demurred, smiling despite himself. He sighed as Kanda settled down with him, nosing into his hair as he let their legs tangle into knots.

“We’re still talking in the morning.”

Link laughed and nodded, pressing a kiss to Kanda’s head, then shut his eyes as Kanda reached up to turn off the lamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoindigold | twitter

**Author's Note:**

> Titty_Now_Titty_Later wrote a parallel story in this universe centered around Poker Pair, titled "If I Had to Ante Up"! Put together, you get a full reference to the song _Let's Fall in Love_ by Mother Mother.


End file.
